Date: Fri, 17 Aug 2012 13:30:32 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Archman
Subject: The Crew 4
The Crew 4
By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex. If this offends or
bothers you, DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a
discussion of safe sex. If you have comments send them to
bldhrymn@yahoo.com
If you enjoy these stories, please consider making a donation to Nifty.
The next day on the ship seemed calm and quiet after my experience with
Tommy and Dick. It was good weather and the boilers were working
perfectly. After my experience with the hurricane, I had a new appreciation
for the boredom of the sea. All desire for a life of adventure seemed to
have vanished. I was more than willing to experience long periods of doing
nothing but routine tasks.
Jack felt the same way, but he was a naturally active man and he spent the
time planning possible sexual adventures. I asked him if he ever became
tired of his sexual obsession.
"It is a surprise to me, but every time I have sex it like it is a new
adventure," he said.
"I don't want to offend you, but there is not much that could possibly be
new to you," I remarked.
"Well, Odd Duck, you are wrong about that," he said. "I was on the SS
Boston for ten years. The First Mate and I went at it almost daily for the
entire time I was on the ship. The last night I was on the ship we fucked
like rabbits and damn if we didn't discover some new spots. When you and
your play mate are having fun, it's always good, and there is always a
chance it will be better."
"I admit it is exciting when you find new meat. No two men or cocks are
alike. You never know how good it will be. You never know if you will find
something new once you become sexually connected," he continued.
"Do you encounter bad experiences often?"
"There have been a few, but as I am older now that has not been a problem,"
Jack said. "It's not much fun with a man who doesn't want to do it. On my
first ship, there was a man who liked it and didn't care who he fucked. he
was a big man and forced his way in. if the man I am fucking doesn't' like
it, it's no fun for me."
"You avoid them?"
"I do. Now, let me tell you a secret. Everyone knows I like sex and am
willing," Jack continued. "If I just wait and bide my time, a good many of
the men who say they aren't interested visit me late at night. Usually, I
open my ass nice and wide and give them the best sex they've ever had. My
ass isn't that virgin and I can do things to their cock, they didn't know
were possible."
"You like the top. I didn't know you liked the bottom that much."
"It's really good when a young guy shoots his wad in my man hole for the
first time," Jack explained. "Even in a dark cabin, I can see him
smile. Some of the men only make later night visits, bur most eventually
join in the play with other men. Eventually, I take a ride in their
backsides. Either they get curious, or they just want to make me happy."
"I'm not looking for love, only fun. There's not much to do on a ship in
your spare time. Half the men can't even read. You can play cards and
gamble or drink. On a well run ship the Captain keeps that under control.
Cards are fine, but if you have a cheater, it can be bad," Jack
said. "Luckily we all have our favorite toy dangling between our legs. It
can be more fun than cards and it is just about the only thing that is more
enjoyable than drinking. You forget your problems and fall asleep
afterwards. When you wake up, you don't have a headache and all your cash
is still in your pockets."
"You've done a lot of thinking on the subject," I remarked.
"I have, but I done more fucking and sucking," Jack replied. "If you
remember the cock is a toy, all will be well."
The next day we stopped in Santo Domingo. There was some sort of a
political upheaval going on there, and we all stayed on the ship, rather
than visiting the port. We were to pick up some cargo, but it was a day
late. The shipping companies had armed men guarding the docks, so we were
safe.
Our passengers had some business meetings on the ship. They were hoping to
win a contact for electrifying the city. They used the dining room and
passengers' salon, so I was in my cabin. Jack popped his head in.
"The stokers are unhappy missing shore leave," he said. "Let's cheer them
up." From the way he said it, I knew he was planning for sexual fun. I
wanted to rest, so he went off to their quarters. He said he would send
someone to help me sleep. I didn't know what he meant, but I was too tired
to ask.
Five minutes later, there was a man at my door. It was Tim. He was the
biggest of the stokers and was almost as tall as I am. "Jack said you
wanted to see me?" he said. He was naked. I assumed he was modest since he
always wore a loincloth and. When I saw him naked, I realized he wore the
loincloth so he wouldn't trip over the large snake hanging from his loins.
His cock hung to his knees. That is an exaggeration, but it was long. I was
also right about his modesty. He was uncomfortable enjoying himself with
others watching.
I wore only my under shorts. My cock was evident behind the thin
cotton. Tim stared at my cock with obvious interest. "Come in," I said as I
dropped my shorts to the floor.
"You have a nice one," Tim said. "Can I make it hard for you?"
"Only if you let me make yours hard," I said. I wasn't sure he heard me,
but then he smiled. Somehow, the prospect of sexual adventure seemed to
banish my desire to sleep. Tim's reactions were always slow, and I assumed
he had limited intellectual abilities. I later discovered he had limited
hearing. That explained his non-responsiveness. If I spoke slowly and in
short sentences, he could understand.
It was clear he had watched the men in their play and once my cock was in
his mouth all was well. Tim was both attentive and effective. I sucked
him. That was unexpected, but most welcome. While his cock was long, it was
thin and I could take the entire organ and not choke. A little later, I sat
on his spit-lubricated cock. The organ slid in easily, but soon it was in
unexplored territory deep in my rectum.
At first, it felt strange to have an object so deep in my body. Tim jiggled
a little and I knew it was alive. I tightened my sphincter and then rotated
my ass, almost doing a dance on his pole. I don't know why I did that. It
was my body reacting to the cock. He moaned. Knowing he enjoyed it excited
me more.
Soon my sphincter was playing with his cock. I liked seeing his normally
dull eyes light up with pleasure and excitement. For the first time I
realized the wide range of feelings associated with sex. Fucking was like
eating. There was only one word for the activity, but there was a wide
range of sensations. Eating could be simply done to avoid hunger, or it
could be a gourmet feast. It was all eating.
Fucking could be meeting a natural urge, quick and satisfying, or a sensual
carnival of many sensations and pleasures. It seemed to depend on both the
anatomy of the participants, and their responsiveness. Tim rewarded me with
his pleasure.
"I'm going to cream you," he moaned. I began to rise up until only his cock
head remained in my ass. Then I clenched my sphincter as tightly as I could
and sat back. His eyes crossed and his mouth opened in a silent cry. His
entire body began to twitch and buck. I felt his man seed tickling the ass
lining. It was beautiful. I dismounted. Tim rolled me over and re entered
my ass from the rear. He was still half-hard. I fell asleep as he gently
massaged my ass. Tim became a regular visitor to my cabin, but he never
overstayed his welcome and he never appeared at an inopportune time.
We had a doctor as a passenger on a trip several months later. He
discovered Tim was deaf. That changed the men's attitude toward him. If you
made an effort to make him understand, he was fine. We had assumed he
simply could not understand.
On the return trip, we had a cargo of mahogany for a New York furniture
maker and only one passenger, Reverend Eustace Morley. He was in his early
thirties, but had the mind of a thirteen year old and looked forty years
old. Morley was a tall, odd-looking man, with few social graces and a
sanctimonious air. I assumed his arrival would mark the end of good
conversation in the dining room. Fortunately, once we left the port, he
relaxed greatly. He was a missionary from the South American Missionary
Society that was under the control of self-appointed Bishop Milton Wells.
Wells was a bible thumper who led revivals in large cities. The offerings
from the revivals went to save the South American Indians from the Catholic
Church and turn them into Baptists. Morley had been enthusiastic, but as he
could not speak Spanish, not to mention any of the Indian languages, he was
not successful. I assume conversion was to have been by osmosis.
Morley was paid almost nothing and would have been malnourished were it not
for Catholic friar who took mercy on him. The Bishop required his
missionaries to be pure, pompous and poor. The Bishop led the same life,
excluding the poor aspect. He lived in a mansion on Long Island. After a
day at sea, Morley realized there was no one to tell on him, so he made an
effort to act like a normal man. We had to pick up additional cargo from a
port in Honduras and then form Kingston in Jamaica, so the voyage was
longer than usual.
As the least senior officer, Eustace sat with me and we had several efforts
at conversation. I am not particularly good in the social graces, but I was
a New York man-about-town compared to Eustace. I knew he was lonely, but
conversation was damn difficult.
Just after we left Honduras, Eustace came to see me in the Boiler room. I
didn't ask him to come; he just appeared at the door. I greeted him, but it
was immediately evident the naked stokers transfixed him. I gave him a tour
of the room and explained its workings, but he just stared at the naked
men. If it weren't for the heat, he would have stayed.
Because there were no other passengers, I was in a small cabin on the main
deck. He occupied the only other room in the area. We shared a bath and
that evening he came into the bath as I showered for diner. He saw me naked
as I got out of the shower. Again, he was transfixed.
We had diner and I went to my cabin. I was working on a report suggesting
possible improvements to the boilers and a scheme to use the drive to power
fans on the ship. I heard a gentle, timid knocking at me door. It was
Eustace.
May I talk to you, Mr. White?" he asked. I asked him in and told me he
could address me as Andrew.
"My visit to the boiler room was a surprise to me," he said. "I didn't know
white men could work naked. I have seen many Indians naked, but I assumed
all white men dressed."
"You noted the temperature and the soot of the boiler room?" I said. "The
men are more comfortable naked. Since this is an all male crew, we all know
what a naked man looks like. There are no surprises." When I looked at
Eustace, I realized it was a surprise to him. I wondered if he had ever
seen himself in a mirror.
"Some of the men's privates were much larger than the Indians," he said in
a near whisper. "Yours is big too."
"We all get the hand we are dealt," I said. "I think there is considerable
variety in the size and shape of men's private parts."
"I thought it was immoral to be naked," he said.
"We are born a naked. If all powerful Jehovah wanted us to be clothed all
the time we'd have been born with clothes." I was making a joke, but
Eustace seemed to take it as a brilliant insight.
"My organ is oversized," he said. "I thought I was a freak or had done bad
something to deserve God's punishment.
"Most men desire large sexual organs," I said. "Don't complain, just enjoy
what you have."
He looked puzzled. "How would I do that!" he asked. Eustace was one of
those rare men who combined timidity with a near total lack of
curiosity. He may very well believed storks brought babies. I tried to
explain the working of the genitals, but my efforts were in vain. He was
sure he was deformed.
I said it was time for me to get to bed, and Eustace left. It was a hot
night so I decided to take a shower to cool down. I had just turned on the
shower and was under the water when Eustace entered the room. I was
annoyed, but decided to not worry about it. When I was finished, Eustace
was naked except for a towel and he entered the shower as I dried off. I
was ready to return to my cabin when Eustace turned off the water and left
the shower. He was naked.
He was thin and hairy, hairier than I was, but average in every way except
for his cock and balls. They were indeed oversized. He saw them as a
deformity and God's punishment for some unknown sin. Most men would have
regarded them as a gift from God, and perhaps a reward. He had goat like
ball and a horse cock. They were not attractive like Greek Statues, but
they were impressive. I must have looked shocked.
"You see, I am deformed," he whimpered. I almost laughed, but that would
have hurt his feelings. He was genuinely worried.
"My friend, you misunderstand. You privates are impressive and most men
would be more than pleased to be as big as you are. They are magnificent."
The room was small. I reached out and fondled them. He did not object. He
was shocked and relieved at my reaction.
"Can I touch yours?" he asked. I nodded.
"Most men think mine are big, but yours is quite grand," I said. He was
eight inches soft. I stoked it and peeled the foreskin back from the
knob. He copied my every movement, my cock responded to the stimulus as did
his. I think his cock was eleven or twelve inches long and hefty too.
"Does it feel good?" I asked.
"Yes, it does. This has happened a few times before. It felt good, but I
had a seizure and spurted stuff. I thought it was a fit of some sort. It
was very sticky. I had to hide it form my grandmother," he said.
"It wasn't a fit; it was an orgasm. All men have them," I explained. "It's
a natural part of being a man."
"I'm going to make a mess!" he cried. He was rock hard now. I dropped to my
knees and took each ejaculation of his spewing cock. I had to swallow
twice. Eustace moaned in pleasure as my tongue licked his tender
organ. When he stopped spurting, I stood up.
"That was impressive," I said.
"You liked it? Was it dirty?" he asked. "Does yours do the same thing? Do
I have to eat the stuff that spurts out?"
"You just took a shower and it's not piss; it semen. That is what makes
babies. It is made in your balls and has nothing to do with piss," I
explained. "My cock works the same way and no you don't have to eat it. I
like it, but you don't need to."
"How do I make you do it?" he asked.
"You stroke it with your hand," I said. "You can also suck it and lick it."
"Which way do you prefer?"
I smiled. "I like to be sucked, but that is up to you. There is no need for
you to do anything. I have enjoyed what we have already done."
I assumed Eustace would return to his cabin. He dropped to his knees and
carefully took my cock head into his mouth. He was timid at first, but
soon became enthusiastic. I climaxed after five or six minutes and he took
every drop. We returned to our cabins.
I know some say man-to-man sex is unnatural, but it was clear to me,
Eustace had never sucked a man before, and nature took its course. He
seemed to love it from the first lick. I had been the same way. I slept
well.
The next morning we arrived in Kingston. The cargo was delayed so we had a
day off. As the junior officer, I was to be the duty officer on the ship
while the rest of the crew took shore leave. The Captain was not feeling
well, so he remained in his cabin. Eustace stayed on board. I explained to
him that Jamaica was English speaking, but he had enough of native
populations. We were anchored off shore so another ship could use of birth
until our cargo arrived, so the men took a long boat to shore.
In the port, we would normally post a guard, but that wasn't needed. I
patrolled the decks and spent much of my time on the bridge. There was a
welcome breeze there. Eustace had many questions and we talked.
Eustace was an only child, his mother died while he was a child. He didn't
mention his father. His grandmother raised him, and educated him at
home. She was under the influence Bishop Milton Wells, and taught Eustace
to read and little more. He received his theological education from the
Bishop's correspondence college. Eustace's grandmother died, and he became
a missionary to fulfill her wishes.
He was poorly educated and had been kept from playing with children his
age, so he had no social skills or knowledge at all. He was a sad case.
There was one good aspect about his Grandmother's educational system. She
did not discuss or even mention aspects of life she found distasteful. This
included sex. While Eustace had no knowledge of sex, she had not taught him
it was sinful. He had no problem with man sex at all. I'm doubt his
Grandmother knew it existed. Sexually he was a tabula rasa.
The Captain overheard some of our conversations and was both intrigued and
amused. His illness was simply a need to rest. I remembered he had a taste
for Virgin ass and a skill for both finding virgins and getting them to
submit. Submit is the wrong word. I know I wanted him in me.
He joined us and seemed fatherly to Eustace. The Captain was a tall,
distinguished looking man with a carefully groomed beard streaked with
white. His face was still young and I assumed he was in his mid
forties. He could look very stern, but he seemed fatherly with Eustace.
I told him Eustace thought that his oversized cock was a deformity. "Come
to my cabin and show it to me," the Captain said with a twinkle in his eye.
"I am a good judge of that sort of thing."
"I'm not sure about that," Eustace replied. His tone of voice suggested he
could be convinced.
"I am the Captain of the ship!"
"Mr. White has a big one too," Eustace protested.
The captain smiled. "Well then, both of you can come to my quarters. We can
have a little show," the Captain said. It wasn't exactly an order, but it
was close and could easily have been mistaken for an order. We went to his
cabin.
His quarters were behind the bridge and had windows and two sides. There
was a good breeze and it was comfortable. "It's warm in here, why don't we
get comfortable?" he said as he began to remove his shirt. The Captain was
a manly man with a barrel chest covered in hair. I would have mistaken him
for a blacksmith or manual laborer. In his uniform, he was a gentleman. I
noticed that Eustace stared at the captain as he stripped. Of course, we
followed suit. Eustace wanted to see his cock. He looked satisfied when
the organ came into view. The Captain wasn't as large as Eustace or me, but
he was well equipped.
"Mr. Morley, I can assure you that you are not deformed in any respect,"
the Captain said. "Indeed, it is clear that the creator has endowed you
generously." I don't know how the Captain knew about Morley's thought
processes, but it was exactly what Eustace would find assuring and
appealing. "If I were the creator, I would have given Adam a cock like
yours," he added.
Eustace loved that comment. His organ and began to grow. The Captain went
over to Eustace and stroked it as he cupped his balls in his other
hand. "You have impressive seed factories too," he said. "I bet they are
filled to over flowing."
Eustace was excited. He reached out and touched the Captain's organ.
"I have traveled throughout the world and met a Hindu priest who referred
to his cock as the Joy-bringer. It was given to men so they could feel
something close to the way the gods did when they created the world." The
Captain said. "Yours is beautiful. You can make many happy with it."
"I've not done that," Eustace whispered, "except for Mr. White. I think he
liked it."
The Captain moved slowly, and Eustace was willing to take his lead. The
Captain told me, he liked Virgin asses, so I knew his objective. I enjoyed
my time with him